Juliet, Who Art Thou?
by Chrissy Renee Pinto
Summary: Cyclonis/Aerrow are married under a new treaty. Cyclonis thinks she holds Aerrow's heart but circumstances reveal otherwise. Please Read/Review or next chapter is divorce!


The moon filters through the dark curtains, forcing light into the black chamber, unwanted. The air is still, quiet in the room that it could be mistaken for empty. It is a vaccum for nothing to exist. Then the doors are flung open, a resounding bang as they connect with the walls. A man enters, a cape slung over his shoulder, brilliantly crimson as the night is gray and black. As staunchly as he wears it, he carries the weight of a cold, grim stare. The light from the hallway spills into the room, it is the little light he requires to focus on the figure sitting placidly on their bed. Her expression is shrouded in darkness she coverts and as for her own shroud, she is dressed in aloofness and cold apathy.

"Cyclonis!" He starts. A bright flash like lightening against a simmering sky in amethyst serves as his warning. "Are you coming?" There is no encouragement in his words or a friendly invitation. It is as dull and perfunctory as a letter to a funeral..of a third cousin he has never met. There is no answer, neither does he expect one. From the slight bend of his shoulders and the lacklustre in his eyes there is not too much concern for the lack of a response. The door shut behind him. A hand runs raggedly through his hair. He is not insensible, the behaviour of hers is dangerous to say the least but if she is content to exile herself, then he there is nothing much he could say or do to convince her otherwise. It is on that note that the voices began to whisper in sinister, dark tones. They were not converted to his way of thinking. His brow furrows, they were unwanted spirits living inside his body. His forehead scrunch in mild annoyance. The voices haunt him like Cyclonis's presence. Her eyes on him, accusatory and merciless. The thin line of her pale lips stretching forever in reproach. It had been perpetual for three weeks now. It was a ordeal to coax the girl from within the folds of some silent madness. Maybe she was content to be viewed as insane.

"NONONONO" The voices smile, full of gleeful chuckling. "It is because she is astute-clever and wise! Did you really think you could hide! Scurry away Storm hawk, bury your secrets deep but from Master Cyclonis, NONONO, your secrets you cannot keep!" His face jerks with self-recrimination but it smoothens into the calm, carefree facile that his friends know. Piper strolls around the corner, she stops and a smile lights her face, like angel wings so beautiful, open and free. His breath catches in his throat as their memories together repair his fractured mind, easing him into a reality where beauty and friendship is offered so easily and profusely.

The walls were her protection, her shield against the anguish, the turmoil and the duties that lurk on the other side, waiting to pounce on her and hold her captive, occupying her thoughts until every thread of her body is thoroughly exhausted.

Amethyst eyes are drawn to the rays of silver pooling on the floor, sparkling. It is beautiful but in order for the beauty to shine through there had to be darkness to blanket everything else, to render the place morose so the little brilliance that had the strength to break through the suffocating darkness could breathe a special beauty.

A coarse laugh climbs through her parched throat, dragging itself from her arid mouth to resound crassly in her solitude. Then, a crippling wave of coldness crept over her skin and dried out her mouth. Eyelashes flutter close, and from the corner of her eye, she can feel it trying to escape, the horridness of her life squeezed into a single tear that is wet and burning with more hate that all her life of war and conflict. It doesn't breach her sanctuary but she is aware of its occurrence. They imagine she is oblivious, unaffected as they play out their charade. Him, the husband and she, the loyal best friend.

It crept under her skin, like an itch, she is not worried in the beginning, bordering on oblivious or self-enforced ignorance. They sat at the dinning table; the room was bright, the flickering flames casting their radiance against the wall, their faces, awkward at first before they gradually mellow, relaxing so their boorish personalities could disrupt the proceedings. Preoccupied, she admits that she had neglected to closely watch her husband as they were 'entertained' by his friends. Then again, her grandmother's upbringing had drilled into her the importance of being a gracious host. She centred her attention on them, appearing willing to make a drastic change in their relationship. She tried too hard, attempted to cloak her true feelings under conventional niceties. Finn was the epitome of inappropriateness, his crass personality occupied half the evening with childish, rowdy antics.

Cyclonis suffered through it all though her stomach turned in aggravation. They were such an insufferable bunch with their lack of self-control, animated exuberance over the frivolous things. So invested was she in keeping the charade that she neglected to note the exchange, like sparkling diamonds with clandestine worth, shared with each other under her very nose. Bitter acid floods her mouth, eating at her insides as she recalls those moments when she was at her most ignorant. Eyes flutter close. The images of Aerrow consorting with Piper in the most intimate fashion came unbidden and forceful. Skin crawls as if she is being violated by her own arrogance and self-absorption. The vapid shadows are her only companions now and the insipid moon is the only witness to the young woman writing in inner torment.

Lingering glances, words with a double-edged meaning and touches that were brief but too frequent to be appropriate. Cyclonis believes she is punishing the both of them with her absence. The vacant spot at the table will serve as a warning. Her absence would send a clear message; it would be the signal that her generous tolerance was at an end. They should halt their furtive flirting and concede to the harsh cold reality that Aerrow and she were married according to the treaty and Piper was destined to die a wretched, lonely death.

She could wait no longer. She marches out of the room, face stoically set for the inevitable confrontation. Cyclonis expects her entrance to provoke a very strong reaction. There would apologies, she is most certain of it-and pleas for forgiveness. She was not sure if she is feeling merciful or not-only time would tell.

She arrives at the ornate doors, pauses to takes a breath. She can feel the mask, coldly lined, cruelly-edged and impassive fall over her countenance, acting as the barrier between the outside world and her heart. Suddenly, a noise breaches the solid structure of the door. It shocks the young wife to the spot because the resonance is difficult to comprehend. Then it dawns on her-it is laughter. Fingers with a slight shake reach forward to open the door slightly, careful of sound. She peeks through the space. What she perceives punches her in the gut, her heart seizes in her chest, gripped tight in a vicious claw that draws blood.

Aerrow laughs, the light from the fire casting an iridescent sheen to his head, bestowing a crimson gold crown. And next to him, his queen, Piper exhibits a similar gleeful manner. She seems to sparkle in Aerrow's presence. The ground quakes under her feet, and briefly she wonders why she is still standing when she should have been swallowed alive. Aerrow flashes Piper a cursory glance, it barely lasts for a second but his eyes come alive with vivid joy so they are as luminous as crystals, those special crystals with amazing power. Cyclonis steps back and lets one weak, trembling hand shut the door before falling to her side. The threat of tears assaults her eyes, and the bridge of her nose begins to sting ferociously. 'He didn't miss me. He doesn't care-his precocious Piper is all that matters to him." Tears brim over and trace a burning path down her face. Nails dig into the metal of the wall, the harsh surface chips enamel. 'Aerrow you Bastard! After I accepted you-after I gave you half my kingdom. You betray me so-foolishly.' Heartlessly echoes soundlessly in the distance, she cannot give credence that he may have wounded her heart, even amidst her thoughts.

Suddenly, the doors open and Aerrow steps out. "Cyclonis!" He takes in her appearance, crumpled against the wall. Eyes smoulder and cackle like the embers of a volcano, a contrast to the ghost of tears piteously framing an ashen face, stiff with recrimination. "Cyclonis, what is wrong?" Amethyst hues flare wildly, fury pouring into Aerrow and sending icy bites along his spine. "When you are feeling better? You can come in." Tells her with a kind a brusque curtness, eyes hard and unrelenting before slamming the doors in her face.

Wobbly knees give away, bringing the master to her knees. The tears fall freely, scorching with their cold, salty touch. Cyclonis covers her mouth, forbidding any sound. It would ruin their party. When you love someone, you want them to be happy and Cyclonis is capable of caring. There is nothing for her in that room, not a husband nor a friend. All she can do is weep, bitter mournful tears for a pathetic creature's wretched dreams, once again torn asunder.

**Please read/Review. Otherwise I will think you do not like it and take it down! Pleeeassee. Thanks. Love Cyclonis/Aerrow. Look forward to another new heart breaking story.**


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